Blizzard
by NickyNooky
Summary: Snickers! Nick and Sara snowed in, stuck in a cabin together. Alone. Rating for future postings. hee hee hee
1. Chapter 1

"What do you supposed Ecklie hopes to accomplish from this? It's not as if we can be an even stronger team than we already are." Sara stared out the window, watching the city give way to desert; their mountain destination loomed in front of them.

"Sara." Nick threw her an exaggerated exasperated glance, "a team can always be stronger. Besides, just look at it as a company paid vacation."

Still staring out the window, Sara made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a harrumph. Nick tired to lighten her mood. "Hey, at least you got to ride with me." His teasing smile beamed and he waggled his eyebrows.

She glanced over, and tried to fight the grin she felt forming by pursing her lips, but the grin won out. "How _did_ I get so lucky?"

"Well…Rick and Catherine are testifying in court, so they won't be up till later."

"How'd Greg end up riding with Grissom?"

Nick shot her another grin. "I got to pick first."

---

Light snow started to fall when at the base of the mountain they stopped at a mom and pop grocery store and stocked up on supplies for the weekend. Nick double checked the directions to the cabin, and was told to 'turn right at the old Tucker place'. The two CSI's exchanged amused glances.

Half an hour later, groceries tucked into the back of the SUV next to the packed duffel bags, and ten minutes after they'd made a right at what they both hoped was the 'old Tucker place' Nick pulled the truck in front of something neither had expected. The snowfall had picked up, and the ground crunched under their feet when they hoped out of the truck.

"Wow."

"I'll say."

They stood next to the back of the tuck staring up at a structure whose only resemblance to a cabin is the fact that it was made of wood.

Two story's tall, with windows galore. A porch wrapped around the entire house, and each of the upstairs bedrooms had French doors that lead out to it's own balcony. There was a path to the right of the house, which Sara discovered led to a lake about a quarter mile away. Chimneys sprouted up from the roof like spring flowers.

"Race you inside." Sara teased.

"You're on." Nick answered just as Sara pasted him at a run. She raced up the front steps, determined to bound though the front door, only to find it locked. She turned around to find Nick taking his time coming up the steps, he laughed and held out his hand a key ring dangled from a finger.

"You lose the bet."

She cocked an eyebrow. "So, what'd I loose?"

He slipped the key in to the lock and turned the door handle. "I'll have to think about it."

The inside looked nothing like any cabin Nick had been in during fishing trips with his father when he was a kid. A deep-set living room greeted them off to the left, and at the end of the entryway a wide staircase led up to the bedrooms. They threaded their way though the house

"Are you sure we're in the right place?" Sara asked as she peeked around a corner and found a game room, with a pool table, overstuffed green sectional sofa faced a huge fireplace. And a plasma tv was nestled in one coner.

"Key wouldn't have worked if we weren't." Nick answered from just behind her.

"I just can't image Ecklie paying for all this."

"Me neither. Let's go pick out the best bedroom." He turned and headed back toward the front door.

"Rooms" Sara said, exaggerating the plural

"What?" Nick asked, sounding like he was already back in the front hall.

"Bed rooms." She repeated, again emphasizing the 's' on the end of the word.

---

"Wow."

"You can say that again."

"Wow." Nick smiled at his own joke and Sara slid her eyes over toward him, and then rolled them.

They each stepped further into the bedroom that had amazed them. A king sized sleigh bed was nestled against the wall furthest from the door. A peacock colored overstuffed comforter draped the bed, looking very comfortable and inviting. A mound of throw pillows topped the bed. Sara looked around, and noticed that this room too had it's own fireplace and television. A door next to the balcony's French doors lead to the bathroom, and Sara walked in to find a sunken tub with jacuzzi jets, and large, very soft towels that was just a shade lighter than the comforter. She left the bathroom and returned to the bedroom just in time to see Nick heft his duffle bag of clothes and toss it on to the mattress.

"Mine" he claimed.

"Just like that?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Yep" he followed the duffle bag and dove on to the bed. Rolling on to his side, he propped his head up with one arm. "What? You'd rather someone else have this room?"

She relented. "No. Guess not."

"Come on" He sat up, then stood "Let's go claim your bedroom."

Sara looked at her watch. "Shouldn't the others be getting here soon?"

"You missin' Greg?"

"Actually" she gave it thought for a moment. "No. I'm not."

The next bedroom was done in eggplant and cream. While it was a double sized bed, not a king, it did have it's own fireplace, balcony and private bath. Sara didn't need to look any further. She set her bag down just inside the door. "Mine" she repeated Nick's declaration. 

Nick smiled in the doorway. "Ok" he glanced at his watch then ran one hand over his stomach. "It is getting a little late. Let's get dinner started, have it ready when everyone else gets here."

---

They went back down the stairs and out the front door to retrieve the groceries. During their tour of the house the snowfall had doubled, the SUV was nearly covered. "Aught oh." Nick muttered as he gazed up at the sky.

Sara hugged herself as she hurried to the truck and tugged out the bags of groceries. "What?" she asked as she loaded his arms with bags.

Walking back inside, he said; "Worried about them making it up the hill. Come on. I got the stuff for my world famous spaghetti."

---

Nick dumped a box of pasta into the pot of boiling water, then stirred the tomato sauce. Sara glided the salad into the fridge to chill. "Nick, I'm starting to get a little worried." Sara sipped from her glass of red wine.

"Me too, maybe…" he stopped when Sara's cell phone rang.

She unclipped it from her belt and glanced at the screen. "Grissom" she told him before she punched the talk button. "Griss?" Static filled her ear, with broken bits of clear signal that cut Grissom's words in half. Putting a finger in her other ear, Sara stepped closer to the back door. "You're breaking up."

Nick stirred the sauce and leaned against the counter, sipping his own glass of wine.

"Yeah, it's snowing here too." She listened for a moment. "A hotel? You're in a hotel?" Another pause. "Yeah. Ok." She moved the phone away from her ear and walked back in to the kitchen. "They're stuck about thirty miles from here. Snow's made the roads impassable."

Nick nodded. "I was afraid of that. If they checked the weather, Warrick and Catherine probably didn't even leave Vegas."

---

"This is really good Nick." Sara wound spaghetti on to her fork "how'd you ever learn to cook like this?"

"My mom taught me. She said I needed to know how to make at least one decent meal, so she taught me before I left for Vegas. But I gotta tell ya, I've never made it with out meat before."

She smiled a thank you, as she chewed the last bit and swallowed. "That must have been hard, leaving your whole family, coming to Vegas."

He shrugged "Yes and no" he took a deep sip of wine. "What about you? You left family behind when you came to Vegas."

She shook her head. "I didn't really, no."

Nick picked up on the change in the air and put his fork down then poured more wine into his glass before he settled back into the chair. "You want to talk about it?"

Sara drained the wine from her glass in one long sip. Nick reached for the bottle, his fingers just grasping the neck when Sara said "My mom's in prison for murdering my father." She took a deep breath, like it had taken everything she had to say those words.

Nicks mouth fell open just a little and he stared at her. Regaining himself after just a moment, he continued his actions, and poured her more wine, almost filling the glass. She drank some immediately.

"How?" Nick finally said.

"Stabbed him. She ah, … she got tired of him beating her."

"How old were you?"

"Eight." She took another sip of wine, then stared into the maroon liquid in the glass. "Can we talk about something else? Please?"

He scrutinized her, and didn't answer until she looked up and met his eyes. "Yeah. Of course." He understood completely about memories being too painful to think about, let alone talk about.

With a nod of thanks, Sara started stacking the dishes and carried them into the kitchen.

With only the two of them for dinner, not the six they'd cooked for, there were plenty of leftovers. Sara found the plastic wrap and packed up the food while Nick loaded the dishwasher. They were quiet as they worked, each lost in their own thoughts.

When the kitchen was clean, Nick tossed a dishtowel on to the counter. "I think I saw a DVD player in the game room, up for a movie?"

Sara nodded, "A comedy, I think."

---

The game room had a chill in the air, and Sara grabbed a knitted wool throw off the couch, wrapping it around her shoulders. "Go ahead and pick out a movie, I'll get a fire going." Nick told her as he kneeled down in front of the large fireplace and started piling twigs for kindling.

Sara perused the titles. "How 'bout _The Philadelphia Story_?"

Nick struck a match and held it to some crumpled newspaper. "That'd be ok. I don't think I've seen that one."

"Really?" Sara smiled widely "It's a wonderful movie." She opened the case and pulled the disc out. "You know… I've always thought you resembled Cary Grant a little."

Nick looked at her stunned, then cocked an eyebrow, "Really?"

"Sure" Sara walked over and sunk herself into the sofa. "Suave, gentlemanly…You have a different accent of course."

"Hey, lay off my twang" He laid it on more thickly than usual and sat down next to her on the couch. She took the throw from around her shoulders and spread it over both their laps. It wasn't long before the combination of the wine, the fire, and the cinematic equivalent of comfort food; Sara soon became very cozy and warm, and felt herself snuggling up to Nick, resting her head on his shoulder.

Ninety minutes and one happy ending later, with the closing credits rolling, Sara reached for the remote and turned off the TV. "Did you like it?"

"Yeah, I did" he said in a decent Cary Grant imitation, then stretched, and looked at his watch. "Jeeze. Past my bedtime."

"Your bedtime is nine in the morning." Sara teased. "But it _is_ late."

"Com'on." He stood and held out his hand for her to take. "I'll walk you home."

---

Sara woke suddenly, disorientation overcame her for just a moment, she wasn't sure where she was, or why she'd woken up. Then she remembered, she was in a cabin, Nick was in the next room, but what had woken her up? Then she heard it again. Nick screamed.

She tossed the covers off and hoped out of bed, threw open the door, running to his bedroom door and didn't bother to knock. His screaming grew louder, and Sara had no doubt what his nightmares were about.

"Nick!" She called out, trying to wake him up, release him from his Earthly agony. He was tossing around on the bed, clutching the comforter in tightly clenched fists. She crawled up on the bed next to him, still calling out his name, grabbed his shoulders and began to shake him. "Nick, Honey, wake up, you've got to wake up!" His screams stopped suddenly, and his eyes opened. Sara stopped shaking him, she sat back on her heels, and swallowed hard. She recognized the same disorientation she'd just experienced in his eyes as he glanced around the room. "It's ok, you're ok. It's over, it's been over for a long time." He sat up, resting his back against the headboard, rubbed his hands over his face. After a few moments she asked, "Do you dream about it a lot?"

He sighed heavily, and dropped his hands in his lap. "I did for a while. Then they kind of petered out. Seeing Kelly again, that brought it all back." He buried his face in his hands, and started to cry.

"Oh, Honey." Sara whispered and scooted up on the bed, gathering him in her arms. She rocked him gently, put a hand on his head, trying to sooth him, kissed his forehead. His skin was warm, and her lips were soft. Sara was as surprised at herself as Nick was. His crying stopped, and he pulled away from her just enough to be able to look at her.

Their eyes locked and suddenly their lips were locked,


	2. Chapter 2

_Oh my God._

Sara opened her eyes and had two realizations at the same time. The first was that she wasn't in her room. The second was the warm body pressed against her back.

_Oh my God._

It hadn't been a dream.

She'd had dreams about Nick before. Ever since working that case with the costumed alien in the desert, and the minister/killer had uttered 'She's gonna getcha' That simple phrase had flipped a switch inside her, and the dreams had begun right away.

But, she had to admit to herself, as she soaked in the warmth of his arms wrapped around her waist, the dream version had had nothing on reality. For the first time in a very long time, Sara Sidle had no urge to run.

"Mornin'." His voice in her ear, thick with sleep, and she couldn't help but notice his accent was a little heavier too.

"How'd you know I was awake?" She whispered, wanting to keep the spell that had covered them like the thick comforter. She brushed her fingertips up and down his forearm that lay over her hip.

"Your breathin'" His breath brushed against her cheek. "Are you…" he stopped, not knowing the right words "What do…" What the hell was wrong with him, he wondered. He'd never had a problem talking to any woman before, let alone one he'd just had sex with. But this wasn't any woman, this was Sara, and being with her had been like coming home. "Any regrets?"

Sara sighed deeply, and without being able to see the expression on her face, he had no idea if it was a good sigh or a bad one. His heart began to pound hard.

"None." She told him, then smiled a little to herself when she felt his body relax. She moved, craned her neck so she could see his face. "You?"

There was no pause this time, no deep breath, no consideration. "Nope. I'm actually wondering why we didn't do this a long time ago."

She laughed at that, and moved her body, facing him completely. Nick adjusted his arms around her, pulling her closer. Her face was buried in his neck; he could smell the sweetness of her shampoo.

"So now what?" He asked, watching pieces of her hair dance in his breath.

"Well, I say we stay in bed all day. Make love, nap, make love, nap."

"As much as I'd like that, the thought of Greg and Grissom walking in on us? No thank you."

Sara sat up quickly. "Oh my God." She put a hand on her forehead. "I _completely_ forgot about them."

"Well, thank God for that" he relaxed in to the pillows; bent his elbows and put his hands underneath is head.

"I'm serious Nick" she climbed out of bed and hurried toward the window. "They could be pulling up right now." She pulled back the curtain and peeked out. "Oh my God" She heard the shuffling of the sheets and a moment later felt him behind her.

Nick looked out the window, then covered her hand with his own moving the curtains open a little wider. "Wow. Now that's a lot of snow."

Overnight, the earth had turned white. The ground, the trees, everything was covered in what looked like a half foot of snow. The sun was out, but Sara could tell the little snow that was melting was turning into ice.

The sight of it mesmerized Sara. "It's so beautiful."

He snaked an arm around her waist and kissed her temple, "Looks like were gonna be alone for a while" he moved his mouth a little lower andnipped her ear lobe.

She giggled and put a hand on his chest, pushing him away just a little. "Are you hungry?"

Taken aback, he looked at her questioningly. "What?"

"Hungry. I need food."

"Sara…"

"I don't want my stomach rumbling while we make love. It was bad enough that I haven't shaved my legs in a couple days."

"Yeah, I did notice that, now that you mention it."

"Very funny" she headed toward the hall and next door to her own room. " Besides" she called back over her shoulder "we should try and get a hold of Grissom, make sure they're not trying to get up here." She reappeared in the doorway fastening her robe belt around her. "I can make pancakes."

Nick groaned. "I can't change your mind, can I?"

As an answer Sara turned and headed down the stairs.

"No. Didn't think so." Nick muttered to himself and grabbed his own robe.

**Sorry it's so short, the next one'll be longer, promise.**


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Nick got down stairs and into the kitchen, Sara had pulled the milk and eggs out of the fridge and was rooting around in the cabinets for the other ingredients. She pulled the flour down and turned to set it on the counter, catching him watching her from the doorway. She smiled shyly and turned back toward the row of cabinets, opening and closing doors, tossing a glance over her shoulder, her smile shifting from shy to seducing. She found the mixing bowl she was searching for and turned back to the counter she'd set the ingredients on and began to measure the flour into the bowl.

Nick tilted his head, studying her. She moved gracefully and with purpose, her attention focused on the task at hand. As her co-worker he admired that quality in her. As her lover, he'd come to an even higher appreciation for it. He moved behind her, watching the muscles in her back move as she worked, and when she began to stir, her hips and ass moved, swishing side to side, and without even being able to see the teasing smile on her face, he knew she was very aware of the effect she was having on him.

He reached out, touching her back lightly with the tip of his index finger, and traced the pattern printed on the silky material of her robe. She felt him; just the slightest touch, moving in small loops and swirls across her shoulders, down her spine.

With his free hand, Nick moved the hair off the back of her neck, ran the tip of his tongue against her skin. Sara's kneels buckled, and he caught her, wrapping both arms around her waist, pulling her into him. His mouth moved against the tender skin of her neck and the spoon fell into the batter, forgotten. Her fingers found the edge of the counter, she clutched at it, gripping at it like it was the edge of a volcano she teetered on.

She could feel his arousal though the thin material of their robes, pressed against her hip, and she couldn't decide on what to focus on, the growing pressure of him, his mouth on her, or the fact that his hands were working the knot in her belt.

The ties fell to either side, the robe falling open, his hands roamed the bare skin on her stomach, and he teasingly walked his fingers slowly up. Sara let her head fall back, resting on his shoulder, the only movement she dared make, not wanting even the slightest break in any connection of their bodies.

When his hands cupped her breasts, a quiet moan escaped Sara's mouth; her tongue darted out, licking her parted lips, and she felt Nick smile against her skin. She turned to face him, her neck and breasts burning from his touch were suddenly cool in his absence, only ghostly heat remained of his presence.

She hooked a finger through his robe belt, pulling him to her, her mouth seeking his like a missile landing on target. Her fingers loosened the knot and she pushed the fabric out of her way, running her hands across his chest. Nick snaked his hands in between them, finding her hips, then ran them across and down to her ass, and pinching a cheek.

Sara let out a squeak and pulled slightly away from him, swatting his arm. Nick laughed heartily, enjoying this new side of Sara, and thanking God he'd been given the chance to witness, and even participate in it.

Taking advantage of the moment, Nick lifted her by the hips, setting her down on the counter. The mixing bowl slid off the edge, rattling on to the floor, flour spilling out, sending dust clouds up into the air. Ignoring the bowl, Sara wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles together at the small of his back.

He moved in to kiss her again, and was shocked when she put a finger to his lips, stopping him. "Can I just…?" Reaching up, she ran her fingers though his hair in the front, rearranging the boy bangs off his forehead.

Amused, Nick let her do what she wanted, studying her face as she worked. The intensity and concentration in her eyes amazed him.

Sara's hand left his hair and she traced one finger down his cheek. "Satisfied?" he asked her.

Teasing, she answered, "Not just yet." Her finger moved across his morning stubble, tracing his jaw line, coming to rest on the underside of his chin, and she gently drew his face to hers. Their lips were just an inch apart, each anticipating the feel of the other, when the shrill shriek of a cell phone stopped them cold.

"Shit." Nick muttered and hung his head, resting his forehead on her shoulder and inhaled deeply, letting it out in a rush through pursed lips.

"That's mine" Sara said and gently, reluctantly pushed him away and hopped down off the counter. Tying her robe back up, she found her phone where she'd left it the evening before and glanced at the screen before pushing the talk button. "Hey Greg. How's being stuck in a hotel room with Grissom?"

While Sara was on the phone, Nick closed his robe and fastened the belt, then found a broom and began cleaning up the spilled flour. A few minutes later, he was done just in time to hear Sara say into the phone "Us? We're…fine. There's plenty here to keep us busy." He looked over at her; she put her fingers to her lips, holding in a giggle. "Yeah, ok, drive careful." Clicking the end button she looked over to Nick, who was leaning back against the counter. "The roads down the mountain have been cleared. They're headed back to Vegas."

"How's Greg holding up with Grissom?"

Sara shrugged. "He sounded a little down, but he'll be fine." She walked over to him, clutching the lapels on his robe. "So…what're you in the mood for?"

"Ah… actually, breakfast. I've got to get all thoughts of Greg and Grissom out of my head before anything else."

Sara chuckled and stepped away, nodding in understanding. "Ok. Pancakes it is."


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry to have made ya'll wait, I wanted to get this just right. I think I did. You let me know. – NN

---

"Damn good pancakes, girl." Nick set down his fork and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his stomach.

Sara grinned, as much from the compliment as from the attention. "Thank you kindly" she quoted a movie western she'd seen once, as she rose and took his empty plate in hand. She started humming on her way over to the sink, immersed in the joy of feeding her man. She stopped suddenly, the dish slipping out of her hand, clattering in the sink. _My man?_ She cocked an eyebrow at her own thought. _Yeah_ she reassured herself, _my man._

"Everything ok?" Nick was behind her, roused by the noise of the dish rattling in the sink. He took her hand, examining it for broken skin. "Did you get cut?" Satisfied that she was no worse for wear, Nick's eyes left her hand and met hers. "Did you hurt yourself?"

"Yeah. Sure. I'm fine." She had the urge to take her hand away, but fought it, leaving it right where it was, enveloped in between the two of his hands, warm and strong and pulsing with energy she drunk in. She watched, as he lifted her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed her palm.

"Dishes can wait" he said after the light kiss, her hand still in his, still so close to his mouth, she felt his breath on her skin, it dried the moistness his lips had left behind. She shivered as his words rippled down her spine. Misunderstanding the shiver, he let go of her hand, and rubbed her upper arms. "Cold? I know what'll get you warmed up." His hands on her shoulders he turned her around, and steered her from the kitchen and up the stairs.

---

She propped herself against the bathroom sink and watched him sit on the edge of that huge tub and lean in to run the water. His robe slipped away just enough for her to take a good long look at his sculpted thigh muscles tightening, holding himself on to the porcelain edge. He glanced up, caught her looking. "Like what you see?"

She tore her gaze away, moved her head to look at the floor at her feet. Suddenly shy, she grabbed for words. "I'm…uh…gonna go make the bed." Behind her, Nick chuckled silently.

Sara picked up the discarded pillows from the floor, and remembered flinging them down herself, getting them out of the way. Underneath one, lay a black swath of fabric. She picked it up and examined it. Her panties. The seams were torn, and they hung from her hand barely resembling themselves. Looking past them, her eyes landed on Nick as he watched her from the bathroom doorway. Leaning against the frame, he chuckled, out loud this time. "Are you kidding me?" she asked, her voice light and teasing.

Nick held up his hands, "Hey, don't blame me. I'm not the one who tore them off."

Sara blinked. "You're trying to tell me I ripped my own panties off."

"Hey, what can I say?" Nick verbally strutted. "Enough of that" he waved an arm toward the bed, "waste of time anyway." He waggled a finger at her. "Come here."

---

The water was warm, the bubbles Nick had added popped, tickling her skin. His cheek was stubble scratchy against hers, as she leaned back into him, resting her back against his chest, and he leaned forward to watch own his hands work the blue-green washcloth making small circles on her stomach, then up to her breasts.

Sara's lips parted, just a little, as she let out a soft moan, and she ran her hands down his thighs, palms slippery against his skin. She felt him stiffen against the small of her back. He abandoned the washcloth, letting it float away until it soaked up as much as it could take and sank slowly. Sara watched it, feeling very much like the small terrycloth square, knowing that she too, would take in as much of Nick as she could, until she floated away, only to sink into an oblivion of her own.

His hands moved down to her legs to the inside of her thighs. She bent her knees, bringing them up, allowing him better access, and he ran a teasing finger along her crease and she blossomed open for him, like a flower. He slid his tongue down the side of her throat. Sara rocked against his hand, wanting more of him, wanting all of him that she could take in. He chuckled, his mouth still against her, hot breath rushing past her wet skin.

He moved them in unison, sliding them down the tub, toward one of the jet spouts on the wall of the tub and positioning her against the stream of water that jetted out. Sara gasped as the water drove into her, tiny bubbles licked at her; Nick somehow kept his hand out of the way of the water, thumbing her, licking her in unison. The foreplay in the kitchen, the thought of her ripping her own panties off, the feel of the water, Nicks hand buried in her, it didn't take long at all for Sara to call out Nicks name over and over in raspy, throaty whispers.

After a moment, her spasms died down, but she could still feel her heartbeat with in her core walls, she sat up, his fingers slipping out of her, and she turned, sloshing water on to the floor, facing him, her breasts near his mouth, and Nick greedily took one into his mouth, sucking on the nipple, rolling his tongue over it, until she thought she might come again just from his mouth. She reached down, taking him in her hands, he moaned, her breast muffling the sound. He was already hard, and she ran a finger down to the tip, Nick's back muscles twitched with restraint. He muttered her name, taking her thighs in his hands, and she lowered herself on to him. He filled her, so deeply, so completely, _this_ she thought to herself _this is what has been missing_.

She braces herself, her hands on his shoulders, his hands on her hips, they rock against each other. Nick moves one hand, rubbing her with his thumb; Sara bucks against his hand, and comes again quickly, barely losing her stride. She twists her fingers in his hair, holding the back of his neck, pulling his head back to look her in the eye. She licks her lips slowly, his eyes on her mouth. She takes his cue and leans down, runs her tongue along the side of his ear. "So good. Don't. Ever. Stop." She thrust her hips with each word. His breath became harder, wafting against her neck and shoulder, she felt his fingers digging into the flesh of her thighs, she knew he was close, "Come on baby, come for me" she clenches the muscles of her inner walls, grabbing at him tighter, moved her hips faster, pumping him like an oil well.

"So sweet, so sweet" Nick mumbled, lost in the sensation of her. She picked up the pace even more; until she feels his muscles tighten, and a moment later, he's mumbling her name into her collarbone.

---

"Who knew that dressing you could be as sexy as _un_dressing you" Nick said as he pulled the zipper on her jeans up.

"Sexy?" she cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Damn sexy" he grabbed her belt loops and pulled her in to him, her hip to his. He kissed her quickly, lightly, and he tasted the bubble bath on her. Pulling back, smiling, he swatted her butt. "Come on." He moved away from her toward the door.

Sara held her hands out in front of her. "Where're we going?"

"Come on." Nick called back from the hall.

---

He watched her descend the stairs as he stood at the front door, her coat in his hands. He tossed it to her as she stepped onto the landing.

"Did you leave something in the car?"

"Sara. Don't you ever just go for a walk?"

"A walk?"

He chuckled. "Yeah. A walk." He held out his hand and she took it, entwining her fingers with his. With his free hand he opened the front door, the rush of frozen air hit them both with a force neither was quite prepared for.

They stood in the threshold, staring out into the foreign ice world. Sara pulled herself up to Nick, holding her body against his arm; the warmth of him seeped into her through her clothing, a single straight line of heat.

He tightened his grip on her hand then released it just as quickly. "Come on."

Outside, at the bottom of the front steps, near the hood of their SUV, she breathed deeply, the brittle air smelled sweet and clean, and she let it fill her completely, all thoughts of death and evidence as far away as the city that contained them.

They set off on the path Sara had noticed when they arrived, around the house toward the lake. Nick looked to the cloudless sky, remembering Texas winter skies full of shouts and laughter of his sisters and brother, his mothers voice calling from the back porch of the ranch that coco was waiting for them. "Ever been in snow before Sara?"

"Ah. Yeah. It snowed in Boston."

"Oh yeah" he said from just in front of her, their arms stretched, still connected as they carefully made their way down a small hill. "Harvard. Sorry, I forgot." His head dropped, watching the ground they covered, but his voice betrayed him, he'd wanted to introduce her to something, to be a part of something new to her. She picked up on his tone of voice.

"But it was nothing like this" she said quickly. He brought his head back up, glanced over his shoulder at her. She looked up toward the icicle-laden trees. "It's beautiful here."

The small hill gave way to even ground, they found themselves about three feet from what would have been the shore, had the lake not been frozen. The silence surrounded them, bundling them up like a comfortable quilt. The vast difference between this haven they'd found and the city they called home was lost on neither of them.

"I never knew there could be so many different shades of white." Sara whispered and stepped into Nick's arms, putting her cheek against his chest, she could hear his heartbeat though his thick coat.

His arms wound around her, and he held her to him, the warmth of their bodies combining, melding, shielding off a sudden gust of wind that blew across the back of his neck. He tightened his hold around her, unconsciously protecting her from the cold, and he knew he was in love with her, completely, utterly _hopelessly_ in love with her. Suddenly, like a bolt of lightening had lit up his brain, he just knew. "Sara."

"Hmmm" he felt it against his chest more than heard it. Snowflakes glittered in her hair, shiny against the chestnut locks, winking at him, urging him on.

"I love you."

Her breath caught in her throat, he felt the gasp reverberate in his arms. She raised her head to look in his eyes. Her lips parted in a silent gasp, and she blinked away the sudden moistness in her eyes. He brought his hands to her cheeks, cupping her face in his hands. If her skin was pink from the cold or his declaration, he didn't know, but he ran his thumbs across her cheekbones, as if he was drying tears that weren't there. "Say somethin' Baby."

_Baby he called you Baby._ Sara thought to herself, and she could no longer blink away the tears that Nick was ready to wipe away. She looked in his eyes, saw nothing but devotion, acceptance. "No one -" she swallowed tightly "No one's ever loved me before."

"Someone does now" he said quietly, brought his lips down on to hers and kissed her softly.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you, so VERY much for all the wonderfull reviews! Sorry it's taken so long for the update, life happens, ya know? Hopefully, I've made up for the delay with this chapter. Ya'll let me know. NN**

The cold had forced them back inside, neither had packed anything warm enough for this much snow. Sara had made cocoa for each of them, using her time alone in the kitchen to think about what had just happened, and brought it out to where Nick had settled in on the couch in the game room.

There was an air between them now, a chasm between the declared and the undeclared, an uncomftorableness that had Sara walking a tightrope of trust, and had Nick thinking about Grissom's eclipse.

She sat next to him on the sofa, his arm automatically encircling her shoulders. The only sound in the room was the tick of the clock on the wall.

"You know I love you too, right?" Sara said softly, the cup of hot cocoa warm in her hands, hovering half way to her lips.

Nick let out a deep sigh of relief. "Well, I do now." He watched her face start to crumple, and was immediately sorry he'd said it. He pulled her closer into him, his arm around slung around her shoulders, and kissed the top of her head.

She nestled in to his chest and wondered if this is what love actually was. Not a desperate need for appreciation that had you staying up for three days straight, or a carefully worded, casually uttered barb that only got you a confused glance in return. It's not a decision to be weighed carefully, or a delivered plant that dies in a couple months. It's this, forgiveness for hastily spoken wrong choice of words, it's a discarding of all logical thought, a pronouncement of itself, and damn the consequences.

Yes, she thought to herself as she snuggled impossibly closer and closed her eyes, comforted by the warmth of his body, this is what love is. Just this.

---

It was hours later when Sara opened her eyes again. The cocoa in her hands had long grown cold, Nicks chest beneath her head rose and fell in deep even breaths, and even before she gently moved away from him, she knew he'd fallen asleep as well.

She watched his face, because that is what one does when their lover is asleep next to them, you watch them dream. His eyes moved back and forth beneath his closed lids, his lips were slightly parted, and he just looked so peaceful, she hated to wake him, but his lips were just to damn inviting.

Putting her lips on his, she started the kiss tenderly, she felt him shudder awake, the shock of being woken suddenly quickly gave way, and he responded, returning her kiss just as gently.

She moved, swinging her right leg over, straddling him, and his hand found the crook of her hip, his fingers lightly taping against the denim of her jeans. His hand moved up slightly, finding the edge of her sweater, and his fingers slipped underneath the wool, gently drumming against her skin, intensifying her longing. Her mouth became more animated, deepening the kiss, and he returned the passion, but his fingers somehow kept the gentle, even rhythm, as if there was no urgency in him at all.

Sara's shoulders tensed, as his hand made a slow trail toward the button on her jeans, and pushing the fabric off her hips. Those agonizing slow fingers soon found their way, pushing aside her panties, slipping into her, back and forth though the wetness, and she broke the kiss, throwing her head back, rocking her hips against his fingers.

She licked her lips, whispering his name, over and over again like a hymn, words matching the rhythm of her hips and his fingers. He could barely move his hand, jammed between her legs as it was, but it was just enough, and then his thumb popped up, rubbing against her clit and it was more than Sara could take, she needed more than his fingers inside her, and she needed it right then. With a swoop of her arms, she stripped herself of her sweater, and gasped when Nicks mouth so quickly found her breast, engulfing it with heat, his tongue flicking against her nipple.

She ran her hands down his chest, and swiftly released him from the confines of his jeans. She stood, breaking the connection between his mouth and her breast, a shiver ran down her spine as his saliva on her nipple met the cool air. She quickly shed her jeans and panties, watching him watch her, his errection growing ever more pronounced. Free from the restriction of her clothes, Sara climbed back on to his lap, her hands on his shoulders, as she maneuver her hips just so, and felt him slide in to her opening all pliant and syrupy. She brought her head back down, resting it on his shoulder as she clutched at him, her fingertips digging into his skin.

Nicks hands found her hips, and he rode their tempo as she fucked him, her body crashing into his over and over like waves to the shore, pulling him in to her furthest reaches. He let one hand slip down, and watched her face as his thumb again found her clit, and he liked it when she tossed her head back in abandon, throat muscles moving with words to divine to be said aloud.

His accent was thick, throaty when he said, "You like it when I open you like this?"

"Yes."

"You like my cock so deep inside you?"

"Yes."

"You gonna come for me baby?"

"Uh-huh."

"I want to see you come, I don't want one of those shy orgasms, come hard."

"As hard as your dick" it wasn't a question, but an assurance.


	6. Chapter 6

The clock ticking on the wall was again the only noise in the room, save for the light breathing, heavy sleeping sounds coming from Nick. The sunset cast creamcicle colored stripes though the windows, and over their bodies, now stretched out on the floor.

Sara was on her stomach, her left arm curled underneath her head. Nick was lying practically on top of her, shielding, even in their sleep.

It was his breath that woke her. Gentle waves of air brushing strands of hair across her cheek, tickling her awake. She was smiling when she opened her eyes, his weight on her, reassuring her of his presence, soothing her with his very being. She sighed deeply, more deeply, more completely than she ever had in her life, filling her lungs, her blood with fresh air, colored with the scent of musk they'd created together.

"Hey" Nick whispered, his lips right next to her ear.

She jerked, startled. "You're gonna have to stop doing that."

He chuckled, more strands of her hair escaped from behind her ear, tickling her cheek as they came to rest. "Sorry." Reluctantly he moved off of her, laying flat on his back on the carpet right behind her. Sara moved immediately, turning over putting her head on his chest, her hand on his stomach and listened to his heartbeat. Then his stomach rumbled.

Grinning, Sara lifted her head, resting her chin on his ribs, looking him in the eye, her hand absently rubbed up and down his arm. "There's leftover spaghetti."

"That's a good idea" he swatted her bare bottom lightly, "I'll get it heated up."

Sara grinned mischievously at the coincidence of his words and actions and rolled off him, letting him up, then watched him pad barefoot into the kitchen.

-

Nick had just started the microwave when he felt Sara come up behind him, wearing his sweater and pressing up against his back, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her chin on his shoulder. He turned his head just a little to meet her eyes. "Ok?"

She grinned at him "Never better" she said and meant it.

"Good. Then go set the table" his voice was full of humor.

-

Sara took a sip of wine, watching Nick though the bottom of the glass. Pulling the stemware away from her lips, she let it hang from her hand, resting her elbow on the arm of the dining room chair. She kept watching him, he'd been very quiet though out the meal, and she realized now, he was using the fork to push the food around his plate more than lift it to his mouth. He stared at the strands of spaghetti forming circles and swirls, and the crease in his brow between his eyes, purposely avoiding hers, told her there was something on his mind. "What's up Nick?"

He let the fork slip from his fingers, it clattered to a rest on the ceramic plate. Bringing his hands together, he clasped them, tapping his thumb on his lips. _This is a big one_ Sara thought.

"I wanted to ask you something, but…" he paused, searching for the right words "But I don't know how… it might be to personal."

"Personal?" The word was full of laughter "You're dick has been in my mouth, we've moved beyond personal."

Something close to a smile flittered across his lips, then was quickly gone. "I was wondering about your…your parents." Nick looked up, catching her eyes for just the briefest of seconds before she moved her eyes away from his. _Some thing's **are** to personal, no matter what has been in who's mouth… _

Sara set the wineglass gently on the table, then pushed at it's base, the dark velvety wine sloshed around inside the glass, empty threats to spill over. She gazed at the liquid as it settled back down and came to rest into the base of the glass. Her heart was beating hard and fast, she could feel her pulse in her throat. "What would you like to know?" She said quietly after a few moments.

Nick sank back in his chair, his hands separated, but remained hanging in the air, making him look as helpless as he felt. _What the hell happened?_ he wanted to blurt out, but knew better. He struggled with finding better words, and finally, to his relief, Sara spoke.

"My father beat my mother. One night, she got tired of it, and stabbed him. She stabbed him so many times" _he ran into my knife, he ran into my knife tentimes_ came into Nicks head, images of the movie Chicago. He gotten up and left the theater after that, full to the brim of excuses, couldn't take any more justification by the guilty. "she basically disemboweled him." Sara said, then stopped speaking.

Silence hung in the air, the uncomfortable kind, thick with waves coming off of her, begging for him to say something. "Did you…did you _see_ it happen?"

Sara took a deep breath, steeling herself for the images she knew were about to flash in her head, she'd been fighting them off, like the little boy holding his finger in the dike, but she was so suddenly very tired, she took a deep breath, and let them flow, nodding to answer his question.

Nick stared at her. He finally understood. Everything he didn't understand over the last five, _no six_, years, he finally understood. All the overtime, to keep herself from thinking about anything but work. The desperate need for punishment of the guilty. It even explained Grissom, the need for approval, attention. _Sara's the kind of girl Freud had in mind_, Nick thought, and then, as a green glow surround him, and the earth enclosed him, and he felt the ghostly remains of the muzzle of his own gun pressed against his chin, he thought _aren't we all._

Her fingers left the stem of the glass, and she lifted her hand to her face, wiping away the single tear that had escaped the dam she kept inside. He reached out, took her hand in his and squeezed. _Just like Grissom_ Sara thought, then quickly pushed it away. Grissom wasn't here. Grissom was lost to her, and she to him. Nick was here. Nick wasn't going to get up and leave her alone as soon as she stopped crying. And it wasn't just the snow filled roads that would keep him with her, it just would never occur to him to do anything else.

He kissed the back of her hand; a tender placement of lips on skin, to her, it was a gentle reassurance of his presence. To him, it was a reassurance of her presence.

The kitchen of her childhood, its once yellow walls painted with cast off and splatter gave way to the kitchen of the cabin, the images just as fleeting as they had always been. For Nick, the green glow seeped away, the brightness of the room returning. "I'm sorry that happened to you" he whispered, and Sara fought back a new verge of tears. No on had ever said that before.

Suddenly, Nick stood, her hand still in his, and he waited a moment, standing next to her chair, while she put the pieces together, understood he wanted her to go with him. She stood and let him lead her into the next room, leaving plates of half eaten leftover spaghetti behind them.

Their arms were stretched between them, their hands locked, fingers entwined. And Sara thought of their walk outside, just before Nick had told her he loved her. He led her to the stereo, nestled on a shelf between volumes of books. He examined it for a moment, searching for the buttons he needed, and then pushed a button, bringing the stereo to life. He was grateful when he heard soft jazz coming from the speakers, not the head banging Greg music he had dreaded was left by a previous occupant of the rental cabin.

He turned to her, holding out his free hand in offering. She took it, his palms were so warm, or maybe her own was cold, she didn't know.

Nick stepped closer to her, pulling her in to his warmth, and held her closely. She felt her body relax against his, and she rested her head on his shoulder, letting the music swirl around them, in their pseudo dance, as they held tightly to each other.

Holding each other up.


	7. Chapter 7

Sara felt the bed moving, the mattress rolling in waves "Sar, come on Sar, wake up!" He was kneeling next to her, she could feel him near her lower back, felt the dip in the mattress as he bounced up and down on his haunches.

Sara squeezed her eyes shut even tighter and tossed a dismissive arm toward him "Leave me alone Nick!"

The bed stopped moving. "Nick?" the voice asked. And all at once, Sara realized it wasn't Nick Stokes on the bed with her.

Her eyes flew open, and she sat up, gathering the covers and pulling them up to her chest. Greg Sanders kneeled on the bed beside her, the hurt puppy look in his eyes quickly shifting into the gaze of a man on the verge of learning information good for teasing. Sara looked around, the eggplant and cream bedroom she'd picked out surrounded her. _What the hell?_ Sara's fingers pulled her hair back as she tried to figure out what had happened.

Greg cocked a grin at her. "Were you dreaming about Nick?"

"HUH?" She looked at him, confused.

Greg's grin broke out into a full on smile. "You _were_! You were dreaming about Nick! What'd you two do?" He waggled an eyebrow at her.

"Ah…"

"Hey sleepy head" the object of their conversation appeared in the doorway. "Up and at 'em girl. Everyone's waiting on you."

"Nick guess what!" Greg hopped off the bed.

"Greg! I'll kill you! I mean it." Sara's voice was full of promise.

Nick raised his eyebrows, wondering what Greg was about to tell him, but what ever it was, if it was pissing Sara off that much, he didn't want to know.

"Come, Sar, Catherine's made breakfast." Nick waved a beckoning arm and quickly disappeared down the stairs.

"I meant what I said Greg" Sara warned again and Greg shot her a worried look before he closed the door on his way out.

Was it possible? Sara threw the covers off her legs and hung her feet over the side of the bed. Had she dreamed it all? Nick's nightmare, their night together, the blizzard, she dreamed it? He never called her baby. He never told her he loved her. And she'd never said it to him.

Sara put her feet on the floor and padded into the bathroom. Turning on the faucet in the sink, she splashed cold water on her face. As she dried off, she stared at her reflection as if the woman in the mirror held the answer to her questions.

_A dream is a wish your heart makes_. Her mothers voice came to her through the years. Back when Sara was a very little girl, she'd sit on her mothers lap, and they'd read Sara's books about princesses and their prince, and her mother would sing quietly to her. _A dream is a wish your heart makes. _Maybe that was true. Maybe…just maybe.

She smiled at her reflection and ran her fingers through her hair.

The heart wants what it wants, she thought to herself as she opened the bedroom door and headed downstairs to make her dreams come true.

**Thank ya'll for reading, and all the WONDERFUL reviews. NN**


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